The Winds of Change
by Krysnel Nicavis
Summary: Sara watches as Nick and Greg’s lives shift and cross paths once more. WARN: implied Slash, MPreg. Part of the Mistake Series.


**Title:** The Winds of Change  
**Fandom:** CSI  
**Characters:** Nightshift CSI's  
**Prompt:** #18 – Black  
**Word Count:** 1,392  
**Rating:** K+ (Minor action violence without serious injury, may contain mild coarse language, should not contain any adult themes.)  
**Summary:** Sara watches as Nick and Greg's lives shift and cross paths once more.  
**Author's Notes:** Part of the Mistake Series. WARN: implied Slash, MPreg.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing …

-o0o-

_I know we've never met before and I'm probably the last person you'd want to hear from, but I need you help. I have tried to fight it. I thought I'd had it beat but since the birth of my son I have come to realize that I just __can't. I can't do it anymore._

_I am not sure what this will do to my husband. I never wanted to hurt him. When we met, we were… I don't know, idealistic. We thought we could conquer anything. That we could survive anything. Honestly we'd only been together for three weeks when we married. I think we were both trying to run from something.__ I know you don't want to hear any of this, but I beg you to fulfill my wishes. I have enclosed a letter for my husband to explain things I know he'll have questions for. I have also included my will. Read it and decide._

_I don't know what happened between you and my husband, but I realize it was something significant. For now I ask that you do somethin__g that will set my mind and my husband's heart at ease. Take care of my son. He's only four weeks old. His name is Riston Sandros Stokes and as much as I love him, I cannot stay for him._

_Please help me by doing this one favour, as great as it is._

_Thank you,  
Eric_

Sara stared at the note Greg let her read for a long while. She gazed across the room where Greg sat in the recliner, the infant cradled to his chest. The small child had been left on the doorstep of their townhouse as they'd been finishing up supper and about to get ready for work. They'd both known whose it was before reading any of the documents found in the diaper bag. The child looked just like Cale had when he was born. She absently wondered at the baby's middle name. Sandros… She wondered what it meant for this child to bear that particular name. It was, after all, so similar to her best friend's surname. She wondered if it held the same significance to Cale's middle name, Nikolai. She sighed quietly and decided not to get her own hopes up and stayed the thought before dark thoughts entered her mind.

Cale, her godson, was playing on the floor with his Mega Bloks. The babysitter was due in an hour. She'd assured them it was no trouble to care for baby Riston as well on such short notice. The two friends had been equally wary when it came to who they'd trust to care for Greg's son. They'd run complete background checks (first of which were criminal records) on everyone who'd applied for the position and finally located one that not only met their rigid specifications but also one they both got along well with.

"Sara, you got a male DB in an alley way off the Strip," Warrick said as he handed the Lead CSI her assignment slip before turning to the three younger members of the nightshift.

Sara still found it strange to come into work at the Las Vegas Crime Lab and not have the old team there. It wasn't that she didn't have faith in her three younger colleagues she just missed the way things were back then sometimes. As it were, Grissom was now giving lectures on forensic entomology around the country full time, Catherine was maintaining public relations for the Lab as the Assistant Lab Director, Warrick had cleaned up his act after taking a downward turn after his divorce and had stepped up to the responsibility of nightshift field supervisor, Greg had gone back to the lab and despite his absence from the position for so many years still maintained his notoriety as the top DNA analyst in the country as well as becoming the nightshift lab supervisor, she herself was now Lead CSI on nightshift, and about two months ago Nick had been promoted to dayshift field supervisor.

She grinned, despite her purpose for being there, at least happy that this familiar face was still where it should be. "Hey Brass, what you got for me?"

"Male DB, mid-to-late thirties, Caucasian, and – you're not going to believe this – he looks amazingly like Sanders," Brass greeted. "We're still waiting on an ID." Sara frowned as she neared the body lying behind a dumpster. David Phillips, no longer just a coroner's assistant, was crouched next to it.

"This is just crazy weird," he said as Sara placed her kit on the concrete of the alley floor.

"Crazy weird?" she commented as she took out her camera.

"He looks exactly like Greg," David said. "Or at least how Greg use to look before he became all serious."

"Huh," was all Sara could say as she tilted her head to the side and studied the man's face. She got a bad feeling about this case. Despite the neon brightness of the City, she felt an impending shadow ready to fall. "Mind if I check for ID?"

"Go right ahead, he's all yours," Dave grinned as he stepped back. She took a few photos before beginning to process the body, searching for any identification but unable to find any.

"Well, I'm done. You can have him back," she grinned at Dave before turning to Brass. "We'll have to wait to get positive ID, he isn't carrying any." She went back to the lab to go over what little evidence she had though it looked to her like it was a suicide. A visit with the coroner later confirmed it, though they were still waiting on an ID.

"Hey, Sar, just wondering," Warrick asked as he entered the break room. "I'm just curious if you've talked to or seen Nick's husband at any time at all tonight."

"Nick's husband?" she looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Nick called me an hour ago, wondering if Eric had called to look for him at all," he shrugged. "Hasn't seen him or heard from him at all yet today.

"No," she shook her head and refilled her coffee cup. "But I-" she was interrupted by her cell ringing and motioned for Warrick to hold on for a moment. "Sidle," she answered and he settled down on the break room couch. "What? Are… are you sure you got the ID right?" Warrick was confused about her reaction. "Alright, thanks Brass. Just give me about fifteen minutes and I'll go with you."

"What was that about?" he asked after she'd hung up. She took a moment to answer him.

"Brass and I are going to have to go talk to Nick."

"What? Why?" She looked him in the eye.

"Because we know where Eric is." She exited the break room and headed to the DNA Lab before going to meet up with Brass. It was turning out to be a dark night indeed.

As much as she disliked him for his actions over five years ago she couldn't keep the tears from her eyes as she watched him ID his spouse's body. She'd seen him cry before but it was nothing like this. After confirming that it was indeed Eric they'd led him from the morgue to the break room where he proceeded to fall apart. She stood in the hall looking in at him being comforted by Catherine and Warrick. She didn't question her friend when he moved from where he stood beside her and entered the break room, coming to a stop in front of the man who'd turned away from him. It was then that she reaffirmed her belief that her best friend had more strength that she did. The man in the break room had turned away from him in his hour of need and here he was offering comfort. When Greg came to a stop in front of Nick, Catherine and Warrick had dismissed themselves from the room.

Sara watched as Greg kneeled before Nick. Nick looked at him confused, his eyes clearly filled with sadness and regret. They spoke a bit to one another before Greg sat on the couch next to the Texan and wrapped his arms around him. As she watched the two men she wondered if the shadow that had fallen tonight was beginning to fade.

- 30 -

THE END

_released__: February 16, 2008  
updated: July 27, 2010_


End file.
